Daughters
by Quaggy
Summary: AU future fic. Luke and Lorelei discuss what it means to be a parent.


Title: Daughters  
Rating: PG  
Originally published: Dec. 8th, 2006  
Notes: This is a future fic AU where everything that happens after Kurt and a well-placed pillow run screaming into the night at the end of the season 5 finale just doesn't exist. April, however, does… or at least the _concept_ of her exists. (I've never actually _seen_ the cannon version!) Rory is 24, April's near 15 and Gigi is about five. (Will's 18 months, in case you're curious. You'll find out who he is later.)

* * *

.

You have trouble hanging up the phone, your hands are shaking so much. Your husband takes the receiver from you to hang it up and then wraps his arms around you and holds you tight.

Christopher wants Gigi back.

"Who calls at 3:45 in the morning?" you demand. "This is a household with small children. Small children who are easily woken by loud, obnoxious ringing. Let me tell you, if you're going to wake up my kids there had better be a good reason for it."

As if on cue, you hear Will's voice cackle through the baby monitor. You both freeze for a moment but he's just talking to himself and in a moment he quiets down.

"You call at 3:45 when somebody's in jail or dying or dying in jail," you continue. "You don't call to casually chat about travel plans like it's a normal hour of the day. Who's even up at this hour? Besides Jess. But he's writing the next Great American Novel, so even he's grumpy when he has to answer the phone!"

"Where did Christopher say he was?"

"New Zealand. You're trying to figure out the time difference, aren't you?"

"Yeah."

"Don't."

"Right."

Two years ago, Christopher showed up on your doorstep, handed Gigi to you and left.

You had just traversed the first major crisis of your married life. Luke had discovered that he had fathered a child twelve years ago. Her mother was about to marry a man who was not interested in being a father to someone else's child. April had nowhere else to go. So, being the independent soul that she was, she decided to find her biological father and see if he might be willing to take in an almost teenager he had never met before. As if either one of you could turn her away! But, as sweet as she was, everybody still needed time to adjust to the changed circumstances. And if life wasn't complicated enough, you just found out just that morning that you were pregnant.

But you didn't think of any of that, let alone verbalize it. You couldn't. Because suddenly you were a teenager again and it was Rory in your arms. It took twenty years, but your worst nightmare did finally catch up with you. Only Luke taking Gigi from you was able to break the illusion.

"You didn't sign up for this," you told Luke, unconsciously echoing the very words he said to you when he offered you an escape after April came into his life.

"Yes, I did. I signed up for exactly this," he smiled, returning to you now the response you had given him back then.

Somehow it had all worked out. You both made it work. For so long, it had just been you and Rory, but now you almost can't remember what life was even like before. You let your guard down and thought that it would be like this forever.

"How are we going to explain this to her?" you wonder.

"You're not seriously thinking of giving her back, are you?"

"No, I'm going to wrap her up and hide her at the back of my closet. She's a little girl, Luke. Not a sweater we borrowed."

"I'm just saying that I don't think that we should let Christopher take her just because he wants to."

"Luke, he's her father."

"And that gives him the right to just come in and take her from us?"

"Well... yes."

"_I'm_ her father. Not Christopher."

"In the eyes of the law—"

"Tell me I don't love Gigi just as much as I do Will or April or Rory! Tell me how this man who has spent more time with the hobbits than his own child is better father material. Tell me that being a sperm donor is more important that actual parenting!"

"I know, Luke, but as much as it doesn't matter to us, it matters to other people."

"Who came up with this stupid rule? 'I'm sorry, sir, but you don't have the same genetic material as this child, therefore it is inconceivable that you could possibly love her more than some stranger who does happen to have the same DNA.' Am I missing something here? Is there a biological bonding process essential to being a parent that I'm unaware of? Because I feel just as paternal towards Rory as I do April!"

"God, Luke, you think I don't know that? You _were_ Rory's father while she was growing up. You were always there supporting her and looking out for her even though you had no earthly reason to. And I will hurt anyone that tells me I don't love April because I didn't give birth to her. But you married Rory's mom and I married April's dad. So, we can claim them as our own. But legally we don't have any traditional claim to Gigi. We're just... babysitters that got too attached."

"So Christopher can just come in and take her away from us?"

"NO! She's ours! He can't have her!" April's voice rings out. You both jump in surprise and there they are, gathered together at your bedroom door. Your children. All four of them.

"She's ours!" April repeats, wrapping her arms tightly around Gigi, as if fearful that Christopher will swoop in and steal her away right then and there. Rory, with Will on her hip, emphatically nods her agreement. Even your son, normally the most mellow and contented of babies, is giving you what you have privately termed his "grumpy, old man Luke face."

"It's not that simple. Legally, Christopher is Gigi's father," Luke tries to explain.

"So we take him to court like you took Mom to court so I could stay here."

"That's a little different, April," Luke sighs. "As your biological father, I could sue for custody."

"I think abandonment is excellent grounds for a custody battle," offers Rory mildly.

"Okay, we're all getting way ahead of ourselves here," you break in before Luke can work himself into another rant. You separate Gigi from April and kneel down in front of her so that she can look directly into your eyes. "You will always have a home here, you understand? Wherever you go, whatever you do, you can come back here and we'll be waiting for you."

"Like Rory?" Gigi asks. You look up at your eldest child and smile. She has an apartment with Lane and Paris in New York and is well on her way to becoming an editor at the New York Times someday. But she still comes home as often as she can.

"Exactly like Rory," you assure Gigi. "The thing is, sweetheart, your dad wants you to live with him for a while because you're his little girl. And, as much as we all want you to stay here, it's not fair to keep you from your daddy."

"But he's Rory's daddy too and she doesn't have to live with him. Why can't he just come and visit?" Gigi asks with the unfailing logic of a five-year-old.

"Because... because..." your voice trails off as you try to find a good explanation. But you can't and your heart is crying out April's battle cry. You cast a helpless glance at your husband as you gather Gigi into your arms.

"It looks like we've got fight on our hands," Luke grins viciously as April and Rory shout their approval and Will gurgles his.

An hour later you all are still awake and sitting around the kitchen table. You have plotted as much as you can, but now it looks as though it's time to call in outside help. It's too early to call your lawyer, but there is one man who will be up who can help you. Truth be told, he was the first person you thought of and there is no one else you would want more in your corner.

You are your father's daughter, stubborn and independent to a fault. You haven't asked him for anything outright since you were nine years old. So that could be why you sound so little when he answers the phone.

"Daddy, I need your help."

"Of course, Lorelei. Where are you?"

"At home. Christopher just called. He wants to take Gigi back," you tell him. For the first time since you hung up the phone earlier, your voice quakes and you grab Luke's shoulder. He rubs your hand as you try to mentally steady yourself.

"I'll be there in twenty minutes or less. There's nothing to worry about," your father tells you and you can hear the steel in his voice.

"I love you, Dad," you whisper into the phone.

"I love you, too. I'll be there soon. Have Luke make more coffee." And then he is gone.

Maybe you're doing the wrong thing. Who are you to judge what kind of parent Christopher is? Is Richard any less of a father because he wasn't as attentive as you would have liked? Wouldn't you have resented anyone who tried to take you away from him? But then, comparing Christopher to Richard is both absurd and insulting. Your dad is speeding all the way from Hartford without stopping for so much as a cup of coffee just because you need him. Everyone deserves to have a father like that.

You smile at your husband as you hang up the phone. You're ready to fight for your daughter. And you're going to _win_.


End file.
